


Distinguishable

by neveralarch



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-02
Updated: 2012-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-01 18:42:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neveralarch/pseuds/neveralarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a fic about Magneto's fashion choices, basically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distinguishable

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Ни с чем не спутаешь](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5847493) by [WTF X-Men 2016 (R_Evolution)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Evolution/pseuds/WTF%20X-Men%202016)



> Written for a prompt on 1stclass_kink. Set some time after the movie.

The sidewalks were ripped and torn, and a car was overturned here and there. Magneto's comrades were mostly groaning on the ground, nursing wounds. A few of Charles' children were lying among them, too injured to fight any more.  
  
All the humans had fled the fight between the mutants. All but one.  
  
"You will never hurt one of us again," growled Magneto. He held the struggling man up with his power. Metal from the cars and the street signs curling tighter around the man's limbs. His only answer was a gasp and flail of a hand before it was caught and trapped.  
  
Magneto grinned and prepared to teach this oppressor a lesson.  
  
"Erik! Erik, stop this." Charles' voice rang out over the battlefield. Magneto turned, letting the man drop to the ground.  
  
Charles was navigating his chair through the wreckage of the street. Magneto felt a pang at seeing the wheelchair, quickly suppressed. Charles looked well. Strong and calm and sleek in his black and yellow uniform.  
  
"This man forced our kind into servitude, Charles," said Magneto. "He deserves his fate."  
  
"It was wrong when you killed Shaw, Erik, and it would be wrong to kill this man now." Charles looked up from the debris, his eyes latching on to Magneto's. They were sad, but sadness with a bite to it. Magneto's breath caught as he stared back.  
  
It was intense, a moment of complete stillness and thought. Two great rivals, facing off in the remains of a broken city block. It was the moment Magneto had been waiting for, when he would meet Charles in the midst of their war and they would each see the other for who he truly was-  
  
Charles burst out laughing.  
  
Erik tried very hard not to wince.  
  
"You have a cape!"  
  
"I-"  
  
"My God, a cape, and _red and purple_ , Erik, these are not your colors."  
  
"Charles-"  
  
"They are _no one's_ colors." Charles wheeled his chair closer, peering up at Erik. Erik very carefully did not back up.  
  
"Charles, if we could get back to what is happening," he said, trying to take command of the situation.  
  
"Erik, you painted your helmet red and purple, and you added a," Charles paused, pushing himself up a little with his forearms. "What are those? Tiny horns for your forehead?"  
  
"I'm not here to discuss fashion," muttered Erik.  
  
"That's a good point," Charles nodded. " _Who_ did you discuss fashion with?"  
  
"Raven said-"  
  
Charles covered his eyes and began laughing again.  
  
Erik stood there for a moment, waiting for it to subside. But Charles kept laughing, laughing until he was wiping helplessly at the tears coming from his eyes.  
  
"This is actually very serious," said Erik, at last, as the noise descended into chuckling. "I have a hostage, if you hadn't noticed."  
  
"I know," said Charles. He sounded sober for a moment, but then he grinned. "Oh, Erik, this is the best practical joke Raven has ever played."  
  
Erik closed his eyes and tried to call into being the epic confrontation he had wanted.  
  
The hostage took this as an opportunity to crawl away from the loosening metal. Erik tried to summon up the energy to trap him again, but he just couldn't manage it. Not when Charles was looking at him like that, not when Erik was extremely conscious of his cape fluttering and catching on rubble.  
  
"We'll settle this later," said Erik. His people were more or less recovered, so he could just walk away from this disaster. He did so.  
  
"I liked the black and silver," shouted Charles after him. "You might try something like that, more muted!"  
  
Erik gave him the finger. 


End file.
